


in those heavy days in june

by soft_bellatrix



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Harry died in the war, Hermione and Narcissa go into hiding, some plot some smut mostly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 16:53:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19430143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soft_bellatrix/pseuds/soft_bellatrix
Summary: Hermione and Narcissa escape from the Final Battle after Harry dies and Voldemort has won. They go into hiding together essentially cut off from everyone, what could happen?





	in those heavy days in june

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely not a songfic, but it was mildly inspired by the feeling conveyed in Florence + the Machine's song June  
> My goal was to get this out in June and I missed my mark by an hour, but close enough  
> Also, this is my first time every publishing smut so uhhhhh yike  
> Started writing, had a breakdown, bon appétit

They didn’t really know how they ended up here. But here they were. Each other’s guiding light in the darkness that followed the Great War. 

Nothing had turned out as it should have. Narcissa lied to the Dark Lord’s face, thinking that he was going to be defeated, but Harry Potter died twice that night and the Dark Lord did not die at all. When Harry hit the cold ground the second time, everyone scattered, knowing that the end was inevitable. 

Ron had grabbed Hermione’s arm, knowing that she had to get out immediately or she would be tortured by Bellatrix for a second time and likely killed for being a Muggleborn and conspiring to kill the Dark Lord. Hermione, in her last act of heroism that night, grabbed Narcissa Malfoy’s arm, knowing that the older witch would be killed immediately for her act of defiance. Even though Hermione wanted to hate the blonde pureblood, she couldn’t, in good conscious, let her be executed for trying to help the light at the last moment. 

So, the three of them fled. They set up a safe house, hidden from everyone. Ron went back out into the world. He was given a pardon, considering he was a pureblood and was basically a child. If he played the part of a brainwashed kid who had seen the error of his ways, he was allowed to keep living. When he could, he would sneak back to the safe house and provide necessities and give updates to the two women, but mostly they lived in ignorance to the outside world. 

The safe house was small and secluded. A tiny little cabin that Narcissa discovered when going through her vast inheritance some time ago. Nobody alive knew about it, not even her sisters. Bellatrix was far too concerned with spreading the pureblood agenda and torturing people to care about the nitty gritty details of her wealth. Wealth didn’t hold much meaning for the dark witch after Azkaban, her currency was in blood that was shed and screams forcibly taken. Andromeda had been blasted from the family tree and had given up all rights to even a single knut from her family. Every other Black was long dead, nobody could find them here. Even Narcissa, herself, didn’t quite know where they were, only able to apparate there because she owned it and knew the name of the place: Black Bay. Hermione and Ron became secret keepers for this little hovel. Once it must have been a cute little place where any Black about to be wed would spend their last night before marriage, now a rundown shack that creaked and moaned nearly as often as the waves rushed back up the shore. 

Hermione and Narcissa had nobody but each other. The first few weeks were filled with awkward silences and fleeting glances. Somewhere along the way, tentative conversation began. Small talk filled the quiet. But with limited topics of conversation that didn’t delve into uncomfortable territory, stillness permeated the house once again. They often found themselves working side by side in silence trying to clean up the place. Dust was banished, chairs were mended and silence reigned.

One night Ron was able to bring them a bottle of Firewhiskey and news that the Order had gone underground and was attempting to carry out Harry’s task. Things still looked bleak, but the news that someone was attempting something to take down Voldemort was still cause for celebration and so after Ron left that evening they opened up the bottle and toasted to the Order. 

Narcissa never imagined she would be toasting the Order of the Phoenix with a muggleborn, but here she was. Even though she was in hiding, she felt surprisingly light. The Firewhiskey managed to cut through the tension, and the quiet that had permeated the house was dispelled. Hermione was over the moon with the update and the infectious nature of the Gryffindor was rubbing off on Narcissa. Hermione always was able to see the bright side of the bleakest of moments and now Narcissa saw a light in this darkness as well. The Firewhiskey was warming the poised aristocrat from the inside out. She felt relaxed for the first time in nearly a month. The warmth gave way to a new confidence that she had never expected to feel in the company of the muggleborn. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that led us to this moment; I was deeply entrenched in the side that put you on the run, so I do not expect you to forgive me. I stood by and watched as you were tortured by my blood...in my house, I can never accept forgiveness. However, I must say it. I am deeply, utterly, entirely sorry,” Narcissa said, ignoring the unspoken rule between them to never mention that day.

“You don’t have to ask for my forgiveness. I have already given it to you, Narcissa.”

Hermione shocked Narcissa with those words, she had been expecting yelling and name calling when they finally breached this topic. Narcissa looked down at the floor, uttering a meek, “you should not have.”

“The fact that you even talk to me as an equal now, let alone apologized to me, proves how deserving you are of forgiveness. We stand here in a safe house, alone and together, and you have not once mocked or threatened me. You left your only child behind, because you knew he would be safer away from you, although I know he is the only thing that matters to you in this life. You accepted the news that Lucius divorced you after we disappeared with grace. You deserve my forgiveness and more and I’m sorry we are stuck here in a place where I cannot show you how much you have come to deserve,” Hermione said.

Hermione finally took stock of how close she had moved to the older witch during her monologue, coming to grip the forearms of the blonde woman like an anchor, as if that would somehow prove her words to be true. 

Narcissa’s breath hitched, “please do not lie to me right now, Hermione. I am far too fragile to play mind games.”

“I’m not cunning enough to play mind games with you, only just brave enough to state the truth for you.”

Narcissa’s eyes clouded over and she encroached upon the young Gryffindor’s space even further, moving her arms to engulf her into a hug. The two stayed that way for a while, relishing in the human contact they had been lacking recently. 

When they finally pulled apart, Hermione could see how uncomfortable Narcissa was feeling and she decided to ease the tension by pouring them each another drink and proposing that they share stories of times at school before everything had fallen down around them.

At first it was hard for Hermione to envision Narcissa as anything beyond the ice queen mother, but she wove beautiful and heartbreaking tales of her time at Hogwarts. The two women shared a passion for knowledge so deep that at times it alienated them from their peers; they both secretly believed they would’ve felt more at home in Ravenclaw, but the circumstances they found themselves in allowed the true nature of their respective houses to save their lives countless times. Narcissa even shared how horrible it had been to be a seventeen year old forced into an arranged marriage, and carrying a baby by the time she was eighteen. 

Hermione shared how she had never had a peaceful year and how overwhelming and scary it had been thrust into this new world and facing not only bullies, but trolls and Basilisks and prejudiced murderers. She even shared the story of how she hit Draco with a nasty right hook, which Narcissa, thankfully, laughed at. 

The night wore on and the Firewhiskey was drained and finally the two witches retired to bed, feeling warmer, from the heat of the drink in their stomachs and the spice of vulnerability from shared secrets. The bitter cold of solitude was waning with their tentative friendship. 

A few more weeks passed along with a few more stories shared, but they’d scarcely seen Ron and it was beginning to worry them. Old stories weren’t a substitute for the facts of the outside world they hadn’t seen in so long. Hermione was beginning to panic, feeling completely detached from everything; she’d begun to pace, floorboards creaking with every step. 

“Hermione, please calm down.”

Hermione looked at Narcissa with wild eyes, tears beginning to form. “Do not tell me to calm down. I’ve lost so many people and the ones I have left- I’m not even sure if they’re safe. You do not get to tell me to calm down.”

“My own son is out there and while Weasley might be considerate enough to keep me safe alongside you, his kindness has not extended enough to tell me the well-being of my only child. So, yes, I am telling you to calm down. We don’t know much, but we cannot lose our heads worrying, we’ll never make it out alive that way.”

At this brutal truth, Hermione’s tears did spill over. “Shit, Narcissa, I am so sorry. I’ve been selfish, not even thinking about how you’re feeling.”

The blonde stood up from the worn couch and halted Hermione’s pacing. Using the pads of her thumbs, she gently wiped away the young witch’s tears. “Let us not think of such things right now. Come sit down, take a deep breath.”

The two sat on the couch and Narcissa rubbed her palm in circles on Hermione’s back until her breathing evened out. The two sat in companionable silence for a while longer until Hermione slumped against Narcissa, completely spent from her emotional outburst. The aristocrat stiffened for just a second, but when she realized Hermione had simply fallen asleep, she maneuvered the younger witch into a more comfortable position with her head resting in Narcissa’s lap. She then summoned a blanket to cover her and began running her fingers through the brunette locks splayed out across her thighs. 

Hermione awoke just a short while later and let out a contented sigh before she could realize just where she was. Before she could begin to feel uncomfortable, she felt Narcissa’s fingers still running deftly through her hair, lightly scratching her scalp. If Narcissa was comfortable enough to touch her so tenderly, she must not have minded that Hermione was laying on her; so, Hermione chose to not let the awkwardness get to her and summoned the courage to tell Narcissa what was really bothering her. 

“I think Ron hates me, I think I ruined everything. And now I don’t know if he’s even safe out there,” Hermione said.

“Why would Ronald hate you? He cares about you deeply.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t care about him the same way. He kissed me in the midst of the Final Battle and I thought it was just the heat of the moment and didn’t mean much. But, last time he was here, while you were restocking the pantry, he mentioned how he was doing everything he could to make sure we could live together forever. I told him I loved him and appreciated all he was doing, but that I only loved him as a brother. He left angry and upset and now we haven’t heard from him in so long. I’m scared, Narcissa. He could be hurt or killed or he may have left us for good, too angry to ever look at me again.”

“I don’t think he’s vengeful enough to do that to you. I wish I could promise he’s safe, but there is simply no way to know. You Gryffindors have taught me a lot, however, I don’t think he’d fall too easily. Have faith that he will return and you can work out your relationship together.”

“He’s too pig headed to work out anything. I don’t think he’ll understand that I’ll never like him in that way.”

“What makes you so sure you couldn’t grow to love him?” Narcissa asked.

Hermione stiffened and gazed at the wall across the room from the two of them. 

“Sometimes love can bloom where we least expect it,” Narcissa continued.

“It won’t. Not with him.”

“Why not? Did he hurt you in some way? You can tell me, dearest.” The pet name slipped out without either witch noticing.

“No it’s nothing like that. I’m afraid to tell you why. You’ve just started to view me as an equal.”

“I’ve long since stopped believing in blood purity. Judging anyone for anything I’ve realized is wholly hypocritical. You don’t have to tell me, of course, but it may ease your mind to be able to talk about it.”

Hermione stayed silent for a while, trying to enjoy this moment of peace before she felt it would end. Finally she spoke, voice quiet and timid, “I don’t think I’ll ever like any boy like that.”

Narcissa’s hand stilled for just a fraction of a second in Hermione’s hair, before resuming scratching her head and rubbing her fingers through Hermione’s wavy locks. 

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling. I myself have had dalliances with women before my marriage.” 

At this, Hermione shifted so she could look up and make eye contact with the older witch. She noticed for the first time how vividly blue Narcissa’s eyes were and momentarily forgot what she was going to say. 

After taking a moment to recompose herself she asked, “did you really? Did people judge you for it?”

“Well, because my marriage had been arranged from the time I was very young, I unfortunately had to hide that part of my life from almost everyone. It was expected that I would be given to Lucius as pure as can be. However, had I had the choice to not hide that part of myself away, I never would have. Most witches and wizards have no problem with homosexuality. Is that different from Muggles?”

“Yes, unfortunately. Some people, many actually, are very accepting, but there are also a lot of people who hate others purely based on their sexuality. People have been attacked and even killed just for being gay. So it’s always scary not knowing how people will react. I don’t think my family will be very supportive, but I guess I’ll likely never even get to tell them to find out how they feel,” Hermione admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“I had to obliviate my parents about a year ago and sent them away so that they wouldn’t get caught up in this war. It’s not their world, but I was a target and I couldn’t risk their lives like that.”

“I’m so sorry that you had to do such a thing. I cannot imagine having to erase myself from my blood’s memory. But I do think that one day, you and I will be able to walk out of this safe house and you will be able to find them and restore their memories. Few people would be capable, but you are by far one of the few I don’t doubt could accomplish such a task. And as for how they react to your sexuality, I speak from experience that finding fault in one’s child is near impossible. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their child and I cannot imagine they’d throw away that privilege for something so trivial.”

At this point, Hermione’s eyes were filled with tears, completely overcome that Narcissa had accepted her so easily and comforted her so genuinely. The differences between them had broken down so much during their stay here and Hermione had begun to share more with Narcissa than anyone she ever had before. It shocked her, but also comforted her deeply. 

“Thank you, Narcissa.”

“Of course, Hermione.”

The next couple days passed with still no appearance from Ron, but the two women’s hearts had lightened slightly, reveling in the bond they had begun to form. Although they were much more comfortable with each other now, there was an undercurrent of nerves that Hermione felt after baring her deepest secret to the ever-poised woman with ice blue eyes and golden and ebony hair that defied genetics. 

The weather began to change and though they figured they could only be a week or two into June, the cold was pervasive and brutal. The cabin was only stocked with a few threadbare blankets and every fire and warming charm cast did little to stave off the bone chilling cold. The two witches sat on opposite ends of the couch, under blankets and still trembling.

“I can’t help but remember the First War. The cold is a sign that his power grows. The Dementors have likely been given free reign to roam and feed. Even those who support him suffer through this cold. Many nights Lucius and I would lay together, savoring the body heat we could get from one another...even though we had already grown to despise each other at that point. It was a dreadful time.”

“I’ve been assuming that the cold must mean that. It scares me,” Hermione’s voice trembled as she spoke.

Narcissa looked up and saw the tears forming in the young woman’s eyes and said, “come here,” as she lifted up one edge of her blanket. When Hermione hesitated, she added, “we’ll stay warm better with two blankets and extra body heat.”

Hermione complied and nervously shifted to join Narcissa under her blanket and threw her blanket on top of them as well. Hermione felt uncomfortable with the length of her body pressed against the blonde, but as before, Narcissa proved she knew just how to calm the witch. 

“We’ll get through this,” Narcissa said, as her hand lazily began stroking Hermione’s curls. 

The two sat together for a few hours, warming up slightly. They didn’t talk all that much, they just savored the extra body heat and comfort the other could provide. The light touches between them were driving Hermione crazy, every scratch of her scalp or shifting of Narcissa’s legs sent a slight shiver down her spine. Luckily, she could pass off the shiver as a result of the chill, but this just caused Narcissa to shift even closer together and entangle their legs, for warmth of course. 

Narcissa, as of late, had spent a lot of time distracting or encouraging Hermione about the future with talks of all the things that she couldn’t wait to experience when they managed to get out of here. Usually it was mundane things often taken for granted, like taking Draco for ice cream or tending to her herb garden, but today the mood was more somber and it led to low voices and truer words.

“I can’t wait to stop hiding who I am and who I love,” Narcissa whispered, staring out into the room above Hermione’s head.

“What do you mean by that?” Hermione whispered back.

“I mean everything by that. I don’t want to be the Ice Queen. I want to be the loving mother to Draco. I’d like to be the loving sister of Andromeda again, if she’ll let me. I’d like to experience the companionate love of true friends and not the nefarious allyship I’m used to. I’d like to experience real, true love.”

“Have you ever experienced real love?”

The front door burst opened right as Narcissa stated, “maybe, once.”

Hermione jumped from the couch right as Ron strode into the room, acutely aware of how cozy she and Narcissa must look to an outsider. 

“Ron! Where have you been?”

“Er...sorry I haven’t been able to make it in a while.” Ron’s eyes jumped between the women before him, as he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck looking uncomfortable. “They’re watching everyone very closely out there, it’s hard to get away.”

“Is everyone safe? Has anything changed out there?” Hermione asked.

“Everyone’s the same pretty much. Funerals have been going on, so everyone’s extra depressed right now and with the dementors roaming free, it doesn’t help. It’s pretty bleak feeling. But, Potterwatch is back up, that’s giving some people a little hope again. It feels like a start.”

“That’s great that Potterwatch is back! Please let your family know that I’m sorry for their loss and I’m thinking about them.”

“They’re your family too, don’t forget that, Hermione.”

Hermione looked at the ground, uncomfortable with where this conversation seemed to be heading. Narcissa approached Hermione from behind and gave her shoulder a quick, but reassuring squeeze, which fortified Hermione in unimaginable ways.

“I’ll give you two a moment to catch up,” Narcissa said, striding from the room.

“Ron, I meant what I said last time. I’ll never be part of the family like you want me to be.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, well not entirely. I just meant that we all see you as part of the family, my parents see you as another daughter. Fred saw you as a sister. You are allowed to mourn for him, just like we all are. We all wanted you beside us at the funeral. We are all worried about you and Mum told me to tell you to er...not compartmentalize your feelings...or something like that. We are worried about how you are handling things here with _her_.”

“I’m handling things just fine, Ronald.”

“Yeah, I could see that when I walked in, you’ve gotten real cozy with the enemy real quick.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You bloody well know what I mean. I walked in on you cuddling. She watched you get tortured, Mione! She housed the Dark Git. She’s evil.”

“We stay close for warmth because if you hadn’t noticed, it’s frigid all the time. We’ve talked like adults and I’ve forgiven her. I can see that that moment haunts her just as it haunts me. She was stuck in a life she didn’t want. She’s not the enemy, she tried to save us all when it really mattered. If you’ve got a problem with me being close to the only person I see day in and day out until you deign to show up for a visit, then you can leave!”

“I don’t have a problem with you talking with her, I’ve got a problem with her hand in your hair, petting you like a dog!” Ron screamed.

“She doesn’t treat me like a dog and I can let whoever I’d like touch me. You don’t get to decide for me.” Hermione leveled Ron with a biting glare, “why are you even here?”

“I need to ask something of both you and Mrs. Malfoy.”

Narcissa has chosen that precise moment to re-enter the room. “It’s Ms. Black once again, thankfully. What do you need to ask of us?” 

Something about the way Narcissa took control after the argument between Hermione and Ron, which was undoubtedly heard throughout the small house, put Hermione at ease. Seconds later, Narcissa looked over at Hermione and Hermione felt more compassion from that icy stare than she’d ever felt before. 

“Okay. First, there’s someone who keeps hacking into Potterwatch and they go by the name of Rosandic. We have a hunch about who it is, but wanted to see if either of you could confirm.”

“It’s Draco,” Narcissa cut in immediately.

“How do you know for sure?”

“It’s an anagram of Draconis, obviously in homage to his name and namesake constellation.”

“Can he be trusted?” Ron asked bluntly, “we had come to the same conclusion, much slower though. He breaks in for a couple of minutes every few days and tells us to go to the one who foils a scary man and that he knows where the last one is. It’s always the same exact message.”

“He’s telling you to come to me, my clever son. When he was young I taught him about anagrams and we would spend hours in the afternoon thinking of them when things were brighter. After the Dark Lord moved into our home, they became a sort of code at times. We lived in fear and couldn’t openly communicate at times. It was a risk since He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named used an anagram to come up with his name, but he never seemed to catch on to what we were really saying. I was often overlooked in my own house, a blessing in disguise. ‘Foils a scary man’ is an anagram of Narcissa Malfoy, more apt now than it ever was. If he is telling you to find me to confirm that he is on your side, I can only guess that he is, as he is well aware that I defected. The second half of the message must mean that he knows of something that will help you. I urge you to trust him, but I know trust does not come easy.”

“I will tell the Order what you said, but it must be obvious to you that this could be a trap,” Ron said.

“I understand how you would see it as such, but you do not know my son. He would never sell me out just for it to be a trap. He knows better than most, the horrors of living under the Dark Lord. My sister and ex-husband’s power trip brought only heartache and fear to those who wish not to deal in bloodshed and genocide. Please, trust him. Let him end this if he knows how. Please.”

Ron appeared shocked upon hearing the pleading and begging coming from Narcissa. “I’ll tell the Order, we have a meeting tonight. Er, speaking of that, I can’t be here much longer. But, the other thing I came for was that I was hoping, Hermione, that you could recreate the Dumbledore’s Army galleons so that I, and the Order, can communicate with you. It’s getting riskier to visit. McGonagall is certain that house elf magic still can’t be traced, so we’ll be sending elves with supplies and food from now on. But, we still need a safe way to contact you.”

Hermione was still rather upset by Ron, but saw the truth in his words. “Give me a moment, I have an idea.”

As Hermione left the room, the tension skyrocketed between Narcissa and Ron; there was no hiding what Ron had said about her to Hermione.

“Mr. Weasley, I will forever be regretful of my past, I can do nothing to change it. But, I can be a better person now, and Hermione has shown me that forgiveness is powerful. I will do everything I can to keep her from harm while we remain here,” Narcissa broke the silence.

“Hermione may have forgiven you, but I have not and if anything happens to her, I will hold you personally responsible.”

“Understood.”

Silence fell over the two until Hermione returned a few minutes later.

“Here, take this piece of parchment. You can write anything on it and it’ll show up on my identical piece of parchment. The messages disappear after a response is written. You should be able to show anyone in the Order a message, but _you_ have to be the one to show them. Otherwise it’ll just look like a recipe for bouillabaisse. Like the galleons, it’ll warm up when there’s a new message, but I copied the Maurader’s Map in that the message won’t reveal itself to just anyone,” Hermione explained.

“Thanks, Mione. You’re the best. I gotta go now,” Ron said. He then leaned in for a hug and whispered into Hermione's ear, “be safe. I’m worried about you. I don’t like the way she looks at you.”

Hermione pulled away from the hug abruptly, “I’m fine, Ron. You need to worry about staying safe yourself. I’m safe here.”

Ron left and it was a relief for the women, but at the same time he seemed to uproot every ounce of comfort that had been painstakingly built in the house.

Unsure of how to broach the accusations Ron had flung at Narcissa, Hermione decided to discuss something hopefully a little easier. “Now you’ve got proof that Draco is alive and doing the right thing.”

And then Narcissa burst into tears.

Unused to seeing the pureblooded witch in distress, Hermione panicked and leapt over the coffee table to be at her side. “Hey, it’s okay, everything is going to be okay,” Hermione cooed, as she rubbed her hands up and down Narcissa’s arms. 

Narcissa fell into the gesture and dropped her head onto Hermione’s shoulders. “I’m just so scared for him. This is dangerous. I’m s-s-so scared,” she sniffled.

Unsure of how to assuage her fears, Hermione pressed a kiss onto Narcissa’s temple. “Draco is cunning and resourceful, he’s smart enough to pass a message to you that he’s safe, while at the same time proving that he can be trusted. He can do this.” Hermione felt Narcissa nod against her shoulder and pulled her into a tight hug. “Let me make you some tea and you can go rest.”

Hermione busied herself in the kitchen making tea and when it was finished she brought it to Narcissa’s room where she was curled up in bed shivering, with silent tears still falling down her face.

“Thank you,” Narcissa muttered as Hermione handed her the mug of steaming chamomile tea.

Hermione turned to leave the room, but as she reached the doorway, she heard a soft, “will you stay with me? ...For the warmth and the comfort I only seem to find around you.” The second of half of what Narcissa said was muttered so quietly that Hermione barely caught it.

“Of course. Anything you need.”

Hermione crawled onto the other side of the bed and situated herself under the covers. Narcissa’s body was still wracked with the occasional shiver and so Hermione wrapped an arm around the blonde, pulled the older witch flush to her side, and drew the covers up further. 

“How did you survive all those months on the run and even now?” Narcissa kept her eyes lowered, staring into her still steaming mug. 

“Well, most of the time I felt like I was babysitting two toddlers trying to keep the boys and myself safe. But really the only way I got through it was the honest belief that we were doing what had to be done and the sheer adrenaline of running for our lives,” answered Hermione. 

“I don’t know if I can survive this constant state of fear,” admitted Narcissa. 

“You can...I believe in you.”

It didn’t take long for Narcissa’s eyes to flutter shut and once they did, Hermione took the mug from her hands and reached over her to set it on the nightstand. Hermione was debating on how to leave the bed, but in her sleep Narcissa even more firmly attached herself to the young witch’s side. Unable, or just unwanting, to disturb the finally relaxed older witch, Hermione contented herself with the fact that somehow her being beside Narcissa brought her enough peace to sleep. In sleep, Hermione noticed that Narcissa’s worry lines smooth out and the rigidness she often carries around in her posture completely deflates. 

Hermione became so distracted in thoughts of the other witch that she doesn’t even notice the pull of sleep dragging her down into unconsciousness. 

A few hours later, Hermione was gently pulled from her dreams of ice and warmth and a princess by her pillow moving underneath her. It took her a few minutes for her brain to realize that pillows aren’t supposed to move. Groggily opening her eyes and taking in her surroundings, Hermione realized that her head was not resting on a pillow, she was in fact propped up against Narcissa’s chest. Her cheeks instantly burned crimson and she made to scramble away but found that all of their legs were entwined and getting away wasn’t so easy. 

“Good morning, Ms. Granger,” Narcissa said while chuckling.

Hermione cleared her throat and finally managed to extract herself from the other woman. “Good morning Narcissa, er, sorry for falling asleep in you bed.”

“Don’t apologize, dear. It was actually the best rest I’ve had in a very long time.” As Narcissa spoke, she got off the bed and gathered their discarded mugs and started walking towards the kitchen.

Hermione fought down the blush that had remained on her face since she realized exactly how comfortable she had been sleeping on top of Narcissa’s...assets and followed her to the kitchen.

They did the dishes together in quiet for a few moments, before Hermione broke the silence, “I actually slept better last night too, better than I have in at least a year, granted I was sleeping on a lot of forest floors in that time.”

“I was doing some thinking while you were still deeply unaware and asleep on top of me,” Narcissa paused to giggle slightly at Hermione’s mortified look. “I think the rest was so nice for quite a few reasons. After the chaos of Ronald’s visit, sleep was needed for both of us, but more than that in this bitter cold and with the odd familiarity we seem to have found in each other, the body warmth and closeness of the other did us good. To that end, I would like to propose something, although you may be uncomfortable by this request and if so I will completely understand and not press the matter.”

“What are you proposing, Ms. Black?”

“I think we should sleep together.”

Hermione sputtered and after a few seconds Narcissa realized her faux pas and it was her turn to look mortified.

“I didn’t mean, er, _sleep_ together. Just continue to sleep in the same bed,” Narcissa clarified, sounding the least dignified Hermione had ever heard her. 

“Don’t you think that would be a bit weird when we’ve got two beds in this house?”

“It might be a bit weird, but nobody is here to question our actions beyond each other and we already spend most of the day attached to each other, trying to stay warm, what makes the nighttime any different? And you admitted, it was the best you’ve slept in some time.”

“I guess that all makes sense,” Hermione paused for a moment, thinking it over, “we can give it a go, I guess.. Trying to lighten the mood, Hermione joked, “are you sure you aren’t just trying to get me into your bed?”

“You’re the one who felt me up in your sleep last night,” Narcissa said, tossing a wink over her shoulder as she strode into the sitting room.

Hermione was taken aback by the casual joke at her expense, that felt almost flirty. Deciding to ignore that she pushed ahead. “I can’t promise that it won’t take me some time to get used to, I’ve never really shared the bed with anyone beyond some juvenile slumber parties.”

“What’s a slumber party?”

“Narcissa Black! You’ve never had a slumber party?!”

“As I’ve already stated, I am unaware of what you are speaking of,” said Narcissa.

“Well, that settles that. Tonight we are having a slumber party?”

“We can’t throw a party, we are in hiding!” Narcissa said, exasperated.  
“I’m not daft. Just the two of us. We’ll stay up late, eating food that’s bad for us and gossiping and telling secrets.”

“You’re right...that is very juvenile.”

After a calm few hours of reading in silence, nestled together on the couch, Hermione got up abruptly and ordered Narcissa to change into pajamas while she got stuff ready in the kitchen.

“We haven’t even eaten dinner yet, this is an inappropriate time for nightwear.”

“Oh lighten up, Cissy,” this was the first time Hermione had ever used that nickname, but it felt right, “we will eat in our pajamas in bed. Don’t argue, it’s happening. Go change.”

Unfortunately there was no pizza delivery coming out to this house, but Hermione had found all the ingredients to make homemade personal pizzas and she set to work. She also filled a bowl with an entire bag of crisps and got some toppings assembled for ice cream sundaes later. Once the pizzas were made, Hermione rushed off to get in pajamas of her own and decided to transfigure some of her admittedly boring pajama pants into extra fluffy pants with little cartoon teeth on them. 

Hermione peeked into Narcissa’s room to find her and was greeted with an eyeful of long, slender, milky-white legs barely covered by dark blue silk shorts with a matching camisole. Hermione’s brain lost all function and she felt ridiculous now in her childish pants, but she hadn’t told Narcissa that the sleepover they were having was an excuse to be childish.

Narcissa turned around and noticed Hermione standing there, eyes glazed over. “There you are. What did you cook? It smells wonderful.” It was then that she got an eyeful of Hermione’s attire and held back a little giggle as she said, “what are those things on your pants? And why are they so baggy?”

“Er,” Hermione floundered to answer the question and not sound ridiculous, “I made pizza. And I transfigured some pants to look like the pajamas my parents gave me for Christmas one year. They’re comfy and what I always wore to sleepovers. The point is to be comfortable with friends and be goofy.”

“Well, I’m certainly comfortable.”

Hermione flushed red. “Yes you are,” she backed out of the room and added, “I’ll be right back with the food.”

Hermione got to the kitchen and paused to rest her head on the door frame, trying to will the blood to drain from her face. She could not deny how incredibly attractive Narcissa freaking Black looked and how it was starting to affect her. After a few minutes of trying to get her thoughts and blood pressure to calm down, she levitated the pizzas, chips and some hot cocoa back to Narcissa’s bedroom. 

When she got back, she saw that Narcissa had thrown on a silk button up over the cami, which made being around her a little easier on her libido. After a few minutes of convincing Narcissa that all the greasy food can and should be eaten, Narcissa admitted she hadn’t eaten pizza since she was pregnant with Draco and her cravings were for the worst foods possible. 

Hermione was laughing at the idea of a pregnant Narcissa battling unhealthy cravings when Narcissa asked, “do you laugh at everyone at a slumber party?”

“Usually, yes. That’s part of it, just teasing your friends and bonding over funny stories.”

“What else would you do?”

“Well, typically we’d end up playing games like M.A.S.H. or Truth or Dare, but that one is kinda odd with just two people.”

“What is M.A.S.H. then?”

Hermione summoned some parchment and started writing Mansion, Apartment, Shack, House and writing increasingly ridiculous categories underneath. After a barrage of confused questions, Narcissa had finally gotten her results and was quite affronted that she was told by this game that she would live in a shack while working as a trash collector with 18 kids.

“That’s just preposterous, I’m a grown woman with plenty of money. Why would I live in a shack?”

“It’s supposed to be preposterous. It’s funny,” Hermione explained. 

To the brunette’s great delight she noticed that Narcissa had started munching on the crisps without needling by Hermione that the fatty food wouldn’t ruin her image. To her horror, she was once again thinking about Narcissa’s body and became aware of how easily and Narcissa seemed to invade Hermione’s space. She was currently leaning on her with the length of their legs touching. The young witch was mortified with the fact that she was feeling this way for Draco Malfoy’s mother and scared that if Narcissa ever found out, it would ruin this easy and growing friendship between them. She vowed to push these feelings down and hoped to be able to stop thinking about them. 

After coming to that conclusion, Hermione tried her best to keep the lighthearted night going and left to fetch the sundaes. When she came back, she noticed Narcissa stifling a yawn. 

“You can’t sleep now, Cissy.”

Narcissa reached for one bowl of ice cream and asked, “and why not?”

“Nobody sleeps at a sleepover!”

“That doesn’t make sense. It’s called a sleepover and a slumber party. Why wouldn’t we sleep?”

“We will later, but first, dessert and then we have to share stories and secrets,” Hermione said. 

“Secrets are meant to be secret for a reason. Sharing them leads to disaster.”

“Okay. I think we have a fundamental difference in what we classify as secrets. I’m talking about things like who your first kiss was with and drunken regrets, not horribly private things that would ruin your life.”

“Okay All-Knowing-Master-of-Secrets, you go first then. Tell me about your drunken regrets and first kiss,” Narcissa teased.

Hermione shifted, “I should’ve seen that coming. Alright, I’ll tell you, but you have to spill yours too.” Hermione paused, thinking. “I’ve only been drunk a handful of times, but the first time I did get drunk led to my first kiss. During the Yule Ball fourth year, somebody spiked the punch and Krum, my date, kept bringing me more and more. Before I knew it, I got in a giant fight with Ron in front of everyone and Krum found me on the stairs, crying; he pulled me outside and kissed me. I think that he thought it would make me feel better, but it made me feel much worse. He kisses like he walks- strong, but clumsy.”

Narcissa covered her open mouth with a dainty hand, giggling like a schoolchild. “I’m sorry, it’s not funny, just that I imagine that is a very apt description. Most men without any guidance tend to kiss like utter oafs.”

Hermione put her now empty ice cream bowl on the bedside table and snuggled deeper under the covers, it seemed like they were in for a cold night. “Yeah, not that I have much to compare it to, but honestly his kiss did nothing more than gross me out. I guess it makes sense now that I don’t think I like men. Enough about Krum though, you must tell me your secrets.”

“Oh, alright, if you insist. If these stories ever leave this room, I will hunt you down, Hermione Jean Granger. My first kiss was with Lily Evans.”

“Wait, Harry’s mum, _Lily Evans_?”

“Yes, we were in third year. It happened the first time during a Hogsmeade trip,” Narcissa said. 

“The first time?!”

“Yes, we were briefly involved.”

“So, you’ve been with a Muggleborn before? How did you let Andy get cast out of the family tree for the same thing?”

Narcissa shivered, whether due to the cold or the memories was unknown to Hermione. Hermione chose not to comment on it and just pulled the blonde closer to her.

Narcissa steadied herself with a deep breath, “I was smart enough to keep it hidden from everyone. Andromeda got caught; I kept her safe by convincing Papa to kick her out and not to hurt her. It was a risk, but I try not to regret that. She’s alive and as long as I know that much, I cannot regret it.”

Hermione shifted, feeling bad for accusing the Pureblood. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“Don’t worry about it, dear. I think now I have to tell you something I do regret. On the night after my wedding, while sitting with Lucius getting drunk, I decided to come clean about my past relationships, believing he would respect me for being truthful and realize that I was married to _him_ , so my past should not affect us. Unfortunately, he saw it as both a threat and a way to keep me subservient. My predilections, as he called them, would be revealed to my family and everyone if I ever tried to leave him or did something he did not like. My honesty with my husband led me to a life of hiding myself and being seen as the Ice Queen.”

Hermione was shocked silent, appalled by Lucius’ scummy tactics and deeply saddened for the witch sitting next to her. She wrapped her arms around Narcissa and buried her nose in the white blonde and black hair, pressing the faintest of kisses to her head.

Both women were shaking, frozen to the bone, too caught up in each other to realize what was happening outside of themselves. Finally, Hermione gasped when her mind started replaying her torture at Bellatrix’s hand. She groped around in the dark for Narcissa’s hand, found it and squeezed it hard. She uttered only one word. “Dementors.”

“They aren’t supposed to be able to find this house! What do we do?” Narcissa was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

Hermione managed to gather her resolve and summoned her ever-faithful otter Patronus, which instantly knocked the chill out of the room. Standing up, she reached her hand back out to Narcissa and pulled her from the bed. Together, they went to investigate from the sitting room which had windows overlooking two sides of the property. Narcissa refused to let go of Hermione’s hand and hovered as close as possible to her as they looked out at the scene outside. 

Dementors were swarming everywhere; it was impossible to know for sure exactly how many, there were at least a couple hundred of them. They were floating just past an invisible boundary, a perfect dome that encased the house and grounds. They moved erratically as if they were trying to find a way to penetrate the barrier, clearly sensing the emotions of the women inside and trying to feed from them. 

Narcissa had turned white as a sheet; tiny almost soundless whimpers escaped her open mouth. Hermione looked over her shoulder and took one quick glance at Narcissa’s face and sprung into action. 

Pouring as much good energy into her fading Patronus as possible, Hermione urged it through the window towards the boundary of the property. It was a shining beacon of joy in a sea of despair. Hermione grew nervous for a minute; her Patronus had never been as strong as Harry’s, but she hoped the wards of the estate were strong enough to keep the dementors from reaching them. Narcissa’s grip on her hand tightened even more, and Hermione could feel her thin frame still shaking. 

The thought of Narcissa being in such fear, bolstered Hermione somehow. She let every good memory she could easily find in the recesses of her mind flow through the link she had with her little otter outside the walls. It shone even brighter and set off in a brisk swim along the entire perimeter, right in front of all of the dementors. As it neared new dementors, they each fell back, repelled by the happy creature. Soon, the little otter was swimming out of sight of the window and Hermione knew her link to the creature was going to get much more difficult. 

Bracing herself with one hand on the windowpane and her other hand still encased by Narcissa’s slender hand, Hermione took a deep breath and thought of good moments with her parents and with Harry and Ron. Her posture was tense and she was working up a sweat with her sheer concentration. She leaned her forehead against the windowpane, the cold glass helped clear her mind of anything beyond her good memories. She closed her eyes and could sense where her Patronus was and fortified the connection between them; it was draining and Hermione could feel that the effect of the Patronus on the dementors was waning. She exhaled shakily, trying not to let her fears take root in her mind. 

She was so focused she didn’t realize right away that Narcissa had let go of her hand in favor of encasing her body in a hug from behind. As soon as she felt the warmth enveloping her from Narcissa’s hug, Hermione’s loop of happy memories was broken by a flash of ice blue eyes and bicolored hair. Instead of weakening her connection with the Patronus, it strengthened it just enough for it to make the final turn around the grounds to where the pair of women could see it again. Nearly all of the Dementors had moved on, just a few more left for the Patronus to repel. 

Finally...finally the last dementors fell back and continued drifting away from the manor towards some other nameless victims far in the distance. Completely spent and boneless, Hermione slumped, held up only by the window and Narcissa behind her. 

“You saved us,” Narcissa whispered into the shell of Hermione’s ear. Her mouth stayed there for a second longer than necessary, her breath ghosting over the brunette’s ear. After pulling away from her face, Narcissa slowly turned Hermione’s body so they were face to face. She cupped Hermione’s face in her hands and whispered once more, “you saved us.”

Before Hermione could even think of a response, Narcissa’s lips were on her own. The kiss took Hermione by surprise and she couldn’t even reciprocate the kiss before she felt Narcissa pulling away. Without thinking of repercussions or the future or what this meant, without thinking at all, Hermione grabbed the back of Narcissa’s neck and pulled her body up a couple centimeters to meet Narcissa’s soft lips once again. 

Narcissa gasped into the kiss, but responded in fervor. She slid her hands from Hermione’s face into her bushy brown locks as she opened her mouth and gently traced along Hermione’s bottom lip with her tongue. Hermione opened her mouth to Narcissa’s wandering tongue and what once could have been a simple kiss of gratitude turned into something far less chaste. Narcissa pushed Hermione up against the window with her body and let her hands drift down her back until they came to rest on Hermione’s hips.

Hermione still couldn’t think straight, shocked that Narcissa would kiss her at all, let alone this passionately. Growing bolder, Hermione lightly bit down on the older witch’s bottom lip and was rewarded with a silky moan. While soothing over the bitten lip with her tongue, Hermione finally let her hands move from their perch on the back of Narcissa’s neck. As if proving that the woman in her arms was real, Hermione reverently touched as much of Narcissa as she could reach. Her hands ghosted down Narcissa’s arms and back up, she then stroked down Narcissa’s back which caused her to arch deliciously into Hermione. When Hermione’s wandering hands reached the dip at Narcissa’s waist, she pulled back to look into the captivating blue eyes.

“What was that for?”

Narcissa replied, slightly breathlessly, “you saved us.”

“Oh.” Hermione pulled away just a bit, letting her hands drop from Narcissa’s waist. “I need to warn Ron.”

“What?” Narcissa asked, incredulously. 

“About the dementors.”

“Right.” Narcissa stepped back, severing all contact between the two. 

Hermione wasn’t sure what had transpired between them, but felt as if the energy had shifted multiple times in the last ten minutes, leaving her unaware of how to proceed. She chose to ignore it for the time being, in favor of writing Ron about the dementors. While she was writing, Narcissa left the room. Picking at her nails anxiously, Hermione hoped that Ron would respond soon. She decided to get up and make two cups of tea while waiting, some caffeine would do them good, considering they hadn’t actually slept and it was now early morning. She couldn’t control how long it would take Ron to see her message, but she could control figuring out what had just transpired between her and Narcissa. 

On her way out of the kitchen, she picked up the parchment and all previous plans were derailed. She rushed off to find Narcissa, swearing as she slopped scalding tea over her hands. 

She found Narcissa in her bedroom reading and quickly set the mugs down and thrust the parchment over Narcissa’s book. “You have to read this.”

Narcissa’s brow furrowed as she read. It was a quick message and it didn’t take her long to glance up and meet Hermione’s eyes. “What should we do?”

“I don’t think we can do anything yet. He told us to stay here.”

“But Draco!”

Hermione sat down hesitantly on the bed beside Narcissa’s outstretched legs, trying not to let the closeness fog her brain with thoughts of what had occurred between them. “Let me read it again.”

Narcissa passed the note to Hermione and Hermione read it out loud, “battle breaking out. This could be the end. Stay put. Everyone is safe right now. Will update ASAP.” Hermione set the parchment down and took Narcissa’s hand, trying to provide her comfort. “We don’t know where they are, I think we risk more by trying to find them. He said everyone is safe, he must mean that Draco is safe right now too. Don’t become a Gryffindor now, we can’t rush into this. We’ll wait for an update and reevaluate.”

“Someone has to be, if you are thinking like a Slytherin.”

Hermione awkwardly laughed, feeling the tension bubbling between them even in the midst of discovering the war is in full swing again. 

Narcissa stroked the back of Hermione’s hand with her thumb and broke the silence while Hermione was still trying to gather up the nerve to talk. “Why was Ron your first thought after I kissed you?”

Hermione’s jaw dropped, “oh god. Is that what you thought? My first thought was that I never, ever imagined that you would kiss me. My mind was barely working because I didn’t think you could ever feel that way about me. If I’m being honest, I never thought that I could feel that way about you, but I do. When my brain finally caught up and realized that you _kissed_ me, I then remembered why. We were in a swarm of dozens of dementors, I couldn’t not warn Ron in case they didn’t know. It wasn’t because I was thinking about him; I was thinking about the fact that we had been in danger and then we weren’t and then you kissed me. You kissed me.”

“I’m quite aware of who kissed whom. It wasn’t my intention, but you saved us when I wouldn’t have been able to and you were so strong and powerful. You were beautiful. I didn’t think about it for a second and I don’t want to regret it, but then you pulled away and said you had to speak to Ronald.”

Hermione scooted closer to Narcissa and brushed a piece of blonde hair behind her ear. “That may not have been the best thing to say immediately after, I admit. Please don’t regret it. I don’t want us to regret it.”

Narcissa sat quietly for a moment, staring into Hermione’s eyes before asking, “how long have you felt something for me?”

“I think the first moment I realized how beautiful you were, was after I told you I didn’t think I could love a man and you comforted me and I saw how clear and stunning your eyes are. And then we started cuddling all the time and I felt something I’d barely experienced before, just a warm feeling from being around you and a desire not to leave your side. It all really only clicked last night before everything happened. Before I thought maybe I was just enjoying your friendship and comfort in these dark times, but then I saw you in these silk shorts,” Hermione reached out and thumbed the waistband, “and I realized I’m hopelessly attracted to you.”

Leaning forward, Narcissa shakily exhaled and rested her forehead against Hermione’s. “I can’t believe it’s morning and I didn’t sleep and haven’t even changed into regular clothes.”

Hermione pulled back, laughing, but also deeply vulnerable, “that’s your takeaway from all that? That you are still in your pajamas?”

Narcissa pulled Hermione back to her by the wrists. “Yes, that, and I’m glad you finally realized how you feel.” The pureblood sprung forward and captured Hermione’s lips with her own. 

Before the kiss got heated like the last one, Hermione broke it off and exclaimed, “finally realized?!”

Narcissa laughed, an open, joy-filled laugh. “Who could resist me?”

“Oh, you are full of yourself, aren’t you? It’s wonderful that your name is so fitting,” Hermione teased. 

Narcissa was still laughing and Hermione was in awe of seeing her so carefree, even after all they had been through in the last few hours. She was so caught up in admiring the witch, she didn’t even see it coming when Narcissa flipped their positions and had Hermione pinned up against the headboard. Hermione gasped and saw the way Narcissa’s eyes dilated when she did and couldn’t resist any longer. She surged forward and met Narcissa in the middle, when they kissed this time it was as if every nerve in Hermione’s body came to life at once. It was addictive. 

Narcissa was done with shyness after Hermione’s revelation was out in the open. She let her hands wander freely and she repositioned herself so that she was straddling Hermione’s lap. She was spurred on with every little moan she got out of the young vixen’s mouth and made it her goal to see just how many she could coax out before properly touching her. 

Hermione shivered after Narcissa sat on her lap and again when her nails raked down her sides, she’d never been kissed like this before and never could have imagined that Narcissa Black was the one who managed to get her so hot. 

Both women were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t notice the discarded parchment glow and warm up beside them. 

Hermione hadn’t expected to end up in this position with Narcissa, even after how heated the first kiss had become, but she knew this was what she wanted. She started trailing kisses down the side of Narcissa’s face to her neck and sucked lightly on her pulse point which caused the blonde to gasp and fist her hands in Hermione’s hair. She pulled back just enough to ask, while peppering kisses on her neck in between each couple of words, “when did you...start...to feel something...for me?” Hermione’s hands were now unbuttoning the top button of Narcissa’s silk shirt while she was still kissing and sucking on Narcissa’s neck and collarbone as it was exposed. 

“Mmm.” Narcissa struggled to form a sentence, but eventually she managed to gasp out, “I thought you were cute after just a couple days here getting to know you…but refused to let my feelings grow for a while. Until you comforted me when I cried over Draco, even though I know he’s been awful to you in the past...that’s when I realized I couldn’t stop my feelings. You’ve been driving me crazy ever since then.”

Hermione met Narcissa’s eyes and saw only truth and passion reflected back at her. Narcissa grinned as she looked down at Hermione and traced from her eyebrow, across her cheekbone and down to her lips. The blonde smirked when Hermione playfully stuck out her tongue and licked the tip of Narcissa’s finger. 

“Yes, you have been driving me absolutely wild. I didn’t really think anything would happen between us, though I did notice the way you’ve looked at me the past couple days. That’s when I decided to play with fire, by finding any excuse to touch you and convincing you to stay in my bed at night.” Narcissa pressed her front against Hermione’s as she leaned in to whisper, “all I’ve been able to think about is how bad I want you.” The blonde licked the shell of Hermione’s ear. 

Hermione drew in her breath shakily and blushed. “Cissa. I- I want you too.”

Narcissa reached down and pulled Hermione’s shirt over her head. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh inside her own mind; here she was, in a sports bra and fluffy pajama pants with teeth on them and Narcissa was sitting on her, dressed in all silk, and somehow still looking at her as if she was a five course meal. 

Pulling her mind back into the moment, Hermione went back to unbuttoning Narcissa’s shirt which was becoming harder and harder as the pureblood was kissing her everywhere- her cheeks, her neck, down the swell of her breasts. Finally Narcissa’s button up was off and the cami underneath was thrown somewhere into the room right after it. The sight of Narcissa clad in only her bra and shorts had Hermione’s mouth go dry; she delicately followed one strap of the black lace bra with her finger down to the cup and the valley between her breasts. Hooking her pointer finger into the thin strap that connected the two cups, Hermione paused. “Should we be doing this?” she whispered. 

“Do you want to do this, darling? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to, but I’m nervous...I’ve never done this before.”

“You have touched yourself before though...right?” At Hermione’s nod, Narcissa continued, “good, then you already know what feels good to you. Just do the same thing to me. Or if it makes you more comfortable I can demonstrate on you first.” Narcissa punctuated her point, by cupping Hermione’s boob through her sports bra and lightly pinching her already hardened nipple.

“Yes. Y-yes please.”

Narcissa smirked and then kissed Hermione passionately. When they needed to break for air, Narcissa continued leaving a tail of wet kisses down her neck and over her chest. The blonde witch shifted off of Hermione and removed her sports bra all in one fluid motion. She repositioned Hermione so that she was laying down with her head resting on a pillow. Once Hermione was comfortable, Narcissa leaned down and took one of Hermione’s nipples in her mouth, rolling the other one between her fingers. “Tell me if you don’t like anything. I want you to enjoy this and if you want to stop at any time, we will.”

“No. This feels good. This is good,” Hermione mumbled. 

Letting her hand drift from Hermione’s breast, Narcissa ran her fingers down the flat plane of Hermione’s stomach. Hermione moaned and her muscles trembled underneath her skin. Narcissa paused when her hand reached Hermione’s waistband, she looked up seeking reassurance that this was okay. Hermione was biting her lower lip and nodded. Narcissa scooted further down the bed and slowly peeled off Hermione’s pants and panties all at once. 

Hermione’s thighs tensed and then relaxed as Narcissa began to massage them. She leaned down and pressed kisses along the length of the inside of Hermione’s legs, from knee to upper thigh. 

“This might hurt a bit in a minute. It’ll be easier if you are relaxed, darling.”

Hermione nodded again and took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m ready when you are.”

Narcissa leaned forward for a quick kiss, pulled back and with a wink said, “a little taste first.” And then she was kissing and licking and sucking on Hermione’s clit. Hermione squealed, her hips bucking off of the bed. Narcissa chuckled and the tiny vibrations just made Hermione moan even more. Then while Hermione was still in shock that Narcissa had just done that, Narcissa carefully entered her with one finger and then two. She was met with resistance and pushed through and before Hermione could register the brief moment of pain, Narcissa had her lips firmly around her clit again, sucking and flicking it with her tongue. 

It didn’t take long with the combination of Narcissa’s tongue and two fingers pumping in and out of her for Hermione to feel the edge rapidly approaching. With a skillful curving of her fingers, Narcissa brought Hermione right over the edge, which wrenched a loud, “yes, Narcissa, yes!” from her lips. 

After a few moments of gently coaxing Hermione down from her high, Narcissa sat back on her heels and wiped her chin, which somehow looked like the sexiest thing in the world to Hermione. 

“That was amazing, Cissa. But you are wearing too many clothes still.”

“Oh I am, am I? Are you gonna do anything about that?”

Finally having her breathing under control, Hermione sat up and kissed Narcissa, hard. She reached around Narcissa’s back and fumbled with her bra clasp for a minute before managing to get it open. She lightly pulled the straps down Narcissa’s toned arms without breaking the kiss. She maneuvered them so that Narcissa was laying down and Hermione was hovering over her. 

Pulling back from the kiss, Hermione took in the sight of the pureblood splayed out underneath her. “You are so gorgeous, Cissy.” She ran her hands down the blonde’s chest until she was cupping both breasts, she tweaked the nipples, delighted in the way they hardened under her touch. She momentarily abandoned Narcissa’s boobs in favor of stripping her of her shorts. Narcissa arched up on the bed, granting Hermione easier access to slide them off and an opportunity to squeeze her ass as she did so. 

As soon as the older witch was naked beneath her, Hermione set to work leaving wet kisses everywhere she could reach, pausing to lightly bite down on Narcissa’s nipples. Narcissa’s quiet moans urged her on and she left a trail of kisses down her stomach to her glistening folds, on display for Hermione. She could see just how aroused the other witch was and it was erotic. 

Hermione sat up for a second and made eye contact with Narcissa as she inserted two of her fingers into her own mouth, to which Narcissa released a low growl. The sound sent another spark of arousal straight through Hermione’s body. She repositioned herself between Narcissa’s legs and at the same time entered her with two fingers and took her clit in between her teeth, flicking it with her tongue. 

Narcissa’s thighs were shaking and she moaned, “more.”

Hermione pulled her fingers almost all the way out and added a third on the next thrust. Narcissa started meeting her pumping fingers with her hips and was moaning Hermione’s name over and over. With her free hand, Hermione went back to tweaking one of Narcissa’s nipples. 

Right as Narcissa was reaching the top of her climax, she took Hermione’s hand that was on her breast and laced their fingers together, squeezing it as she yelled Hermione’s name one last time. 

Narcissa motioned for Hermione to lay down with her and so she rested her head on Narcissa’s shoulder, completely wrapped up in her.

“You’re spectacular, Hermione.”

Barely two minutes after that, with both witches moments away from falling asleep, they were jolted into awareness by the sound of the front door slamming open. 

“Hermione! Are you here?” Ron’s voice carried into the bedroom. 

Both women jumped out of bed and hastily threw clothes on. Hermione was nearly out of the door when Narcissa caught her wrist and pulled her back and quickly threw a glamour charm over her numerous hickies before doing the same to herself. 

Now that they were appropriately concealed, they hurried out of the bedroom towards the front room. 

“Ron, what are you doing here?” Hermione asked. 

“Thank god, you’re safe. Why didn’t you answer my messages?”

“Oh. I didn’t see them. Is everything okay?”

“It is now that we know you guys are okay. Why wouldn’t you be looking at the parchment after what I told you and what happened last night?”

Hermione was silent, with no excuse coming to mind.  
“We were resting, Ronald. We didn’t sleep last night because of the dementors and exhaustion got the best of us,” Narcissa cut in, saving both of them. 

“Oh, er, that makes sense. We were worried that somehow you had been found,” Ron said.  
“Who’s ‘we’?” Hermione asked. 

“Me and Draco...and the rest of the Order. I messaged you a bunch telling you what happened, I can fill you in completely later, but ‘Mione we won! Me and Draco defeated Voldemort. He’s gone for good!”

Hermione ran and hugged Ron, spinning him in a circle. “Oh, Ron, I’m so proud of you!”

“And my son in safe?” Narcissa questioned.  
“Yes, he’s waiting to see you. He went back to Malfoy Manor.” Ron paused, “er, Lucius has been sent to Azkaban though. You guys are welcome to come to the Burrow, we are throwing a party.”

“Thank you, Ronald. Let me see my son first. If he wants to attend, we will be there.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Black. I’ll let you guys gather your stuff, I have to get back and tell everyone you’re safe and help my mum set up. Hermione, I’ll see you in a minute, right?”

“Of course, Ron.”

Ron left and the women stared at each other for just a moment before embracing each other, both crying tears of joy and an inexplicable heartache. Hermione kissed Narcissa’s cheeks, as she reassured her that it was over and Draco was safe.

The women packed up their few belongings in just a couple minutes and stood outside, neither apparating away, both just looking at the house they had been stuck in for weeks. 

“Will you come to the Burrow?” Hermione asked.  
“I do not think so. I wish to spend time with my son right now.”

“Right.”

“I will never regret the time I spent with you, my darling Hermione,” Narcissa said and then with an anticlimactic pop, she apparated away. 

Hermione was left standing alone and although she was happy the war was over, she couldn’t help but feel that that had been a permanent goodbye and it left her hurting and empty. Trying to ignore the pangs in her chest, Hermione also apparated away, leaving Black Bay in her past. 

The next few days at the Burrow were filled with reunions and drinks and cheer and it took everything out of Hermione to pretend she was just as happy as everyone else. 

She spent the late nights alone, writing down everything she could remember from her time with Narcissa. She even took up discovering and creating anagrams, to feel close to Narcissa. Finally one night, she came up with one she was fairly proud of for Narcissa’s full name and she cried. She rolled up the little piece of parchment and put in her pocket, she planned on carrying it with her forever or until she built up the courage to send it to Narcissa. Exhausted, she finally tried to go to bed, but right before she drifted off there was a Patronus she had never seen before in her room. The Patronus was a large, regal looking wolf. It opened its mouth and the melodious voice of Narcissa spilled out, “come outside, darling.”

Hermione cried even harder, it was all too good to be true. She had to be going crazy, but she stepped outside anyways. 

Illuminated by the moonlight was Narcissa. She stood there looking nervous, but the second she saw Hermione she bounded over to her and started wiping her tears.

“Why are you crying, little lion?”

“I thought I was going crazy when I realized that Patronus was yours.”

“Why?”

“Well mostly because I missed you so much and didn’t know if I was ever going to see you again and if you wanted to see me again. But also because I wrote something tonight and it’s scary how accurate it was,” Hermione explained. 

“Would you show me what you wrote?”

Hermione took the paper out of her pocket and wordlessly handed it over. 

Narcissa unraveled it and there were only eight words on the paper: ‘Narcissa Gemini Black- Grace blinks, I am Canis.’ Narcissa met Hermione’s eyes, both sets shining with tears now. “Did you come up with this anagram yourself?”

“Yes, I’ve been working on it for days. I know you and Draco had come up with an anagram when your name was still Malfoy and thought you deserved one for your name now that highlights who you are.”

“Why did you choose the word Canis?”

“I don’t really know. I just knew that as soon as I came up with it, it felt right. Then I was thinking, in the wild wolves often hide who they are beneath their social position, and they can be dangerous, but beautiful. It just felt like everything I knew about you and wanted to remember about you.”

“I never thought I’d cast a Patronus, but I did so in thinking about my memories with you and how desperately I wanted to see you. I never thought it would be a wolf, I didn’t think about it at all, really. But it seems it’s meant to be. And darling, you must know I’ve missed you too.”

Hermione started to cry in earnest all over again and grabbed Narcissa’s face and pulled her in for a kiss. This kiss, wet with shared tears, conveyed everything they were feeling. 

“Can we still see each other, please?”

“Merlin, yes. I came here to ask you something rather absurd in relation to that. I want to see you of course. But, I don’t want stolen moments late at night, I want you all of the time. I don’t want to go back to living alone...I don’t want to go back to living without you,” Narcissa said. 

“All you had to do was say that. I want that too, that’s all I want.” 

“Hermione, you deserve someone better, someone your own age, without a previous marriage and a son and one who didn’t stand on the opposite side of you in the war. I’m being selfish by even asking.” 

“I don’t want whoever you are describing. I don’t want to go back to living without you either. I want you. I’ve never wanted something like I want you. I love you, Narcissa.”

“I love you too, Hermione.”


End file.
